


Remembering

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Dark City (1998)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna has strange nightmares, sometimes. But there are ways of taking comfort that May certainly doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering

Anna has nightmares, sometimes. More often than she'd care to admit. Nightmares of staring into May's lifeless eyes, her body tossed aside like a rag doll. Mutilated, with arcane, spiralling symbols carved into her peaches and cream skin. The same dreams, the same images. It concerns her, but she supposes it must be normal, to have nightmares about the thing that she fears most.

She doesn't remember much about her life before May. It seemed like an endless drone of working nights at the box office, taking tickets from faceless strangers. Then one morning, needing a change, she'd left work and taken the early bus out to Shell Beach. It was so bright and warm, and for a time she just stood on the dock and watched the play of the sun on the waves, mesmerized by the mosaic of light and shades of blue. She'd met John Murdoch then, gentle and kind with pretty green eyes, but their relationship hadn't lasted more than a few casual dinners, a few gentlemanly kisses. But that morning was also the first time she'd seen May.

May seemed familiar when she came up to them in the upscale little cafe, like they'd met somewhere before, though Anna had never been able to place it. Perhaps it was just something about the woman's sweet and sunny disposition that put her at ease, and within a few weeks of mid-morning breakfasts she felt like she'd known May forever. May was beautiful, adorable, painted red lips always turned into a smile, blonde curls pulled away from her face with small barrettes or bows or little red flowers. She always wore white at the cafe - it was the dress code, she'd explained - little white dresses that showed off her knees, printed with little cherries or polka dots that matched the red of her apron and the red of her lips.

The cafe had amazing coffee. But that wasn't what she went back for.

Two months later, when she hadn't spoken to John in weeks, when she'd spoken to May daily over creamy cups of cappuccino and cucumber sandwiches, May showed up at the theater just after the late show had started. Anna turned over the 'Open' sign, snuck her inside the mostly empty theater, and they sat in the back row and traded kisses and touch like a pair of teenagers discovering love for the first time.

When Anna wakes in the night with nightmares she curls around May, pressing up against her back, burying her face in blonde curls and breathing in deep the now familiar scent. She strokes an arm around May's waist over her little white silk nightgown, needing the reassurance of closeness, of life. She doesn't intend anything more, doesn't intend to wake May, but her lover moves a little, responding without waking to the touch, shifting so that Anna's thumb brushes the underside of her breast. She stirs a little at that, making a soft, sleepy noise of appreciation as she curls back closer to her, and even though she hadn't intended anything, Anna feels a throb of heat between her thighs. She can't help but respond, nuzzling the back of May's neck through her hair, smoothing her hand up to cup one perfect breast. She loves May's body no matter what she's wearing, but there's something beautiful about seeing her in as little as possible, or even nude. May's curves are what Anna has always thought to be the perfect example of womanhood, the sway of her hips and the swell of her breasts just asking to be touched, stroked, worshiped. And May is always as responsive as she is now, even half asleep, drawing a soft breath at the tease of Anna's hands, her nipple hardening under the brush of her fingers.

Now that she's been with May, Anna can't imagine wanting anything else. The warmth and softness of her body is perfect, and she strokes over her breasts and down her stomach, mapping the curves of her body with her fingers. Trailing her fingers along the top of May's thigh makes her lover draw a soft gasp, shifting, trying to arch up into the touch to encourage more. "Sorry to wake you," she murmurs, and May gives a soft, low chuckle, voice a little husky from sleep.

"It's perfectly all right," she replies, giving a sigh of pleasure as Anna's hand slips up to cup her breast again, the silk of her nightgown sliding between her skin and Anna's fingers. "Never apologize for this, sweetheart."

May turns towards her, finds Anna's lips with her own, kisses warm and languid and promising. She loves how May kisses, lips pressing, caressing hers, teasing with the flick of a tongue without the invasive force she remembers from the men she's kissed. It seems like their kisses were meant to fit together, and even the most innocent of kisses make her body remember more and heat with desire. She welcomes May's touch on her body, stroking the curve of her waist, cupping her breasts in a mirror to what Anna does to her, but for the moment Anna is in control. She moves half over May, encouraging her to lay back, lips on her throat, her collarbone, kissing and nuzzling along the line of her nightgown as May gasps and arches, trying to push her breasts towards Anna's mouth. Anna takes the hint, nuzzling down to mouth at one peaked nipple through the thin silk, sucking wetly at it. She smoothes a hand up May's thigh, pushing the hem of her nightgown up as she does. May arches closer, letting Anna push the nightgown up around her shoulders, nuzzling her bare skin, dropping soft kisses over the curve of one breast, than the other.

When Anna strokes low on her stomach, May whimpers, hips arching, until Anna's fingers slip down into tiny silk panties, into soft blonde curls, stroking the wetness between her thighs. She loves the way it makes May shiver and moan, rocking up against her fingers as they stroke along the length of her sex, brushing against her clit. May hooks her thumb into the band of her panties and arches to tug them off, moaning as Anna's fingers, slick with her arousal, press inside her. She knows well how to please May, how to work her fingers _just so_ inside her, how to brush her palm against her clit to make May whimper and rock up against her hand. She'd been nervous at first, hesitant about learning to please another woman, but in the end all it took was care and attention, listening for what May liked best, what made her lover's breath come faster, gasping and whimpering until her body finally shudders and clenches around Anna's fingers with climax.

"Love you, May," she murmurs, drawing the disturbed blankets back over them, curling around her again. She doesn't need satisfaction this time; May's pleasure is enough, and for now she wants nothing more than to fall back asleep with her lover in her arms. May protests, but is silenced with soft kisses as Anna tugs her nightgown back into place.

The panties stay off. It just makes things easier in the morning, after all.

~~~~


End file.
